Fragile
by felixfelish46
Summary: "She used to be the girl that flashed in your eyes like a star across a room. Now she seems tarnished to you, like maybe if you cleared away some of the layers of pain and dirt and grime, you could see that shine again."


You watch her from across the common room, your mind not on the smoldering cards of exploding snap before you, but cast a million miles away, to a place unmarred by Snape or blood status, to the golden halo of curls swinging and swaying about the face of a laughing girl. Lavender brushes her hair out of her eyes, trying to get a better look at the scald marks on the arm of the first year before her. You smile watching her smooth her hands over the burns, wrapping and healing with care while comforting the young boy with warm eyes and soothing words. You've almost forgotten what has put the small boy through such pain, then your vision darkens, turning red as rage fills your mind. This becomes an almost daily occurrence when the Carrows turn to eleven year olds to use as torture victims.

You shake your head as if to banish these angry thoughts, when she looks up, sharing with you a smile that is somehow comforting. Without a word you unclench your fists, and with a sigh turn back to the game.

Later you half-listen as Dean and Ernie discuss the DA, choosing instead to watch Lavender correcting a fellow member's shield charm, never condescending, always smiling. She glows. When Ernie jokes about the length of her skirt, you fight back the urge to punch the smile off his face, although you can't help but notice the hem doesn't quite fall far down her long legs, before quickly righting your gaze, slightly pink.

You move in closer now. She has always been a friend but now you feel you see her anew each day. She used to be the girl that flashed in your eyes like a star across a room. Now, she seems tarnished to you, like maybe if you cleared away some of the layers of pain and dirt and grime, you could see that shine again. You glimpse her heart as she watches over her House like a mother, equal parts lionhearted and soft as a lamb. You marvel at her new-found confidence, voicing opinions at meetings and taking the lead when others need her most. You watch her advise and reassure others, almost believing the hope she gives them is true, almost believing this is a war you can win, almost believing that one day, everything will be alright. You start to dream of flowers.

You witness her courage, stomach twisting in agony as you watch her writhe on the ground, temper reacting with a force strong enough to make you dizzy. You direct all rage at Alecto, powerless to help as Lavender casts you a pleading look. _Stay_, she mouths, and this command alone prevents you from flinging yourself across the desk to strangle the evil thing that could do this to her. When she rises, on shaky feet, she is astounding. She smiles. Never have you seen anyone more beautiful as this bruised and tattered girl with a will of steel. You wrap an arm around her and guide her home, trying to get up the nerve to tell her that.

You wonder where the ribbons have gone. The bright strips of fabric and lace woven through her beautiful hair have disappeared, leaving her messy locks to form a golden mane around her delicate head. When you see a small girl with her bandage tied with purple ribbon you understand that Lavender gives herself to anyone who needs her. She will give any part of her life to anyone in need, mend all that she can fix, and restore hope to a fading school. It is then you know that you love her.

You learn her defiance, watching her wear bruises and burns like badges of honor, a disfigured replacement for her jewelry and lace. She seems untouchable in her walk, as if no earthly power could shake her from her course. You wonder when she became so strong, so much stronger than you could ever be. It isn't until the day you pull aside the tapestry of Bartholomew the Broiled to find the tear-stained, broken girl of your dreams that you realize how fragile she is. What a hollow statue of strength she is. The cracks in her armor run deep. You know they can't be fixed overnight, and you know that she probably won't let you into the shadow behind the curtain guarding her heart, but you gather her into your arms anyway, becoming an angel to the girl who became one for others.


End file.
